


tagli sublimi

by YogurtTime



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Denial, some violent behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtTime/pseuds/YogurtTime
Summary: Junno remembers the Ueda he belonged to as he hopes to have the one he knows now.





	tagli sublimi

 

 

When Junno was younger, Ueda kissed him.

It didn’t _mean_ anything.

Ueda used to be Junno’s sort of emotional; complaining loudly about the things that made him miserable and declaiming fantasies like they were just a makeup brush stroke away. Junno was quiet enough and whimsical enough that Ueda liked him. Liked him just enough but not much. Peroxide hair, blue eyes and white kisses on the corner of his mouth made an adolescent Junno first understand what it meant to have something so completely, and at the same time not at all.

What it meant to _earn_ a release.

“Sometimes I feel like negative space. You and me. Shining background for any splash of colour...just....” Ueda muttered at him -- he was always muttering; soft low words you could pretend you didn’t hear until he snapped at you for not listening.

Junno listened well enough. Sometimes he was a little bit in love with the way Ueda bit his lip and practically sneered to hide his smile. Trying to be selective with his own sense of humour. Funny.

Junno thought a lot of things were funny; from word play to avante-garde dispositions. Ueda was few and far between those specifics, narrowed eyes and killer glances over a full red mouth that said things that were soft.

Junno didn’t care about those things; feeling out of place or whatever. Ueda had a quiet way at being sad and Junno wasn’t entirely sure how to be in that space with him. However, Ueda seemed to hold him just on the outskirts of it-- when they were small and thought the world was made of candy glass and everyone who debuted with them would be there forever.

Then they grew up, and Uepi’s shaky,salty kisses at night and frustrated sighs on his neck were too easily replaced with something stronger; something that didn’t need Junno to listen to unhappy murmurs in the back of tour buses nor hot breaths of resentment; something that didn’t take him round the collar and shudder up into his mouth where no one could see.

Something happier at least.

Years passed them and Junno learned not to worry so much about why it was people grew out of needing each other, grew out of showing that they really did. Deep down.

Seemed a bit self-defeating as the answer was painfully obvious and nowhere near as interesting as being the only one who knew they needed him.

Ueda. Probably needed him.

It was why he came back to Junno years after. Junno had flinched something fierce in the rehearsal room; smiling pain on the edges of his lips at a hard dig of the toe of Ueda’s boot right in the small of his back.

When Junno looked at him, really looked at him; he saw something savage. All jagged lines, blonde arcs of his hair curved in vindictive stripes over a doe-eyed glare. Only his lips looked soft, jaw working as he chewed gum; snapping it a little in the back of his mouth when their eyes met. He looked quite like there was something Junno had held onto for so long and that he was, only now, coming to claim it.

Junno was instantly on board; he just didn’t know how to get on. “Been a long time since Uepi bullied me,” he told the room breathlessly, rubbing at the tender spot on his back with his fingers, and Ueda, bubblegum crushed under his teeth behind the withering twist of his mouth, rolled his eyes; walked off like Junno was so much ash.

 

 

*

 

A week later Ueda openly shoved him right into a wall outside their dressing room. Everyone saw in that fully lit hallway. Some staff, a few juniors and Junno forgot what he’d been saying, just the taste of the last word on his tongue and Ueda grinning because the shock in Junno’s expression delighted him.

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” he asked, a little shell shocked.

Ueda slanted a look at him, crossing past him into the dressing room as he said the words. “The way you piss me off is a bit extreme.”

Junno laughed at him, palms all sweaty as he kept himself still against the wall wondering how pissed off Ueda would be if he knew this was kind of a turn on..

 

 

*

 

Half the time Junno didn’t get motivations. At least, not for other people. Ueda continued to skulk closer to him, calloused knuckles and hard jawline trying to recreate a childhood relationship while getting progressively angrier that Junno and him just wouldn’t fit the way they used to..

They’d just grown apart in certain portions, but Junno would close his eyes sometimes in the silence of Ueda not speaking to him how he used to and he’d _feel_ the sticky press of Ueda’s lips and searching hands in the dark, wanting what they couldn’t really name back then.

Now knowing what it is, Junno proceeded to change tack.

 

*

 

He caught him on the hotel rooftop during their tour that year. There was no outdoor track and Ueda turned into barbs and wire when he hadn’t let off any steam.

He was up there alone, sitting cross-legged and stretching on prickly red asphalt in his sweats and a plain white top; arms bare in the wind.

“If you’re gonna run with me, better keep up,” he said in a lofty tone when Junno dropped beside him, pantomiming the act of stretching.

“I could only keep up with you if you were chasing me.”

Ueda snorted, tongue-in-cheek and smiling in that way that no one but Junno really ever did see.

Silence. The outdoor air was deafening; strong blasts of it flowing up the building, shaking Junno in his bones.

“D’you ever still feel like negative space?” Junno asked him; he meant there to be an appropriate segue but the sentence grew and fell flat on his lips.  
.  
Ueda regarded him thoughtfully, slowly getting to his feet. A pause descended, cold with the air around them like Ueda couldn’t fathom the question. An album of expressions then flashed across his face; so faint that Junno couldn’t recognise them for what they were. Instead he watched Ueda’s lips part, the not-so severe twist of his mouth. “There’s this artist...”

“An artist?” Junno echoed.

“Yeah. He punches holes in his canvases and calls it art. There’s a whole philosophy to go with it. Talks about creation and destruction occurring in the space where there’s nothing.”

Junno laughed. Ueda’s kind of artist. He didn’t know what to say in response so he said, “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time then? Punching holes in your image?”

Ueda looked furious with him suddenly. Inexplicably. His teeth bit the words out. “You… _you_ asked me about feeling like negative space after all this time. Feeling isn’t about image. Feeling is what happens to you when the one person you thought understood it all doesn’t even realise he was in that negative space with you--”

He broke off and his jaw went hard like he hated the sound of his own words. Junno could only stare; he knew he ought to apologise but his throat went dry when Ueda, sleek and purposeful like a jungle cat crouched quickly over him. It startled him, for sure, but Junno felt the climb of that old black ache the moment Ueda’s fingers slid up his shoulder, a tripping touch, the way he fingered piano keys, looking for the right note and there, one thumb slipping right to the base of Junno’s throat as his hand came up and curled around his neck in a hard delicate grasp.

He went slow, lowering himself down in an intent motion, until his knees dropped on either side of Junno’s splayed legs. “Uepi…” Junno began, unaware until he spoke that Ueda had stolen any sound in his voice. He felt both foolish and excited suddenly, his left hand coming up instinctively to balance Ueda but only hovering as he sat down, right down on Junno.

He thought he would remember every possible second of it, but not unlike his moments with Ueda when they were young, it was so fleeting. He could only remember what it meant that Ueda’s thumb coaxed his chin up with a hard massage up his throat and the shift of Ueda’s hips; it was pointed and meant for Junno to interpret without question. Junno submitted quickly, shatteringly aware of close to ten years history the moment Ueda’s lips grazed his.

“Feeling is...this,” Ueda said into his mouth, his thumb running another line down Junno’s throat, creating his swallow or mirroring it; he didn’t know. Junno waited, not moving when he felt Ueda’s lips withdraw, slip down dry and warm down his chin just as the round blunt edge of his thumbnail dug upward, made Junno tip his head back.

Ueda kissed his neck. Warm, real, and tender, angular fingers holding him still as he tightened his thighs on Junno, which made him suck in a breath, instantly making images in his mind of what it would be like… if every inch of Ueda were being used like a weapon on him.

The absurdity of the thought didn’t strike Junno until he felt cold where Ueda dropped him and got to his feet in a single punishing motion.

Junno had stopped breathing and he felt the fever scraping down his back as he stared at Ueda, looking down at him with nothing short of resentment. “So now,” Ueda said quietly, voice almost muted under the pale and icy air around them. “Now you know what I feel like.”

 

*

 

He thought about it later of course; forehead pressed to his knuckles against his shower wall, hesitantly rocking into his own fist. He licked his lips before he bit back an empty groan as he imagined himself jammed between Ueda and a hard place.

“Did you forget?” Ueda would snap at him and not really kiss him-- kisses were just too much like the cruel one on that rooftop. Singular; filled to the brim with old annoyances, secrets and the ways Junno had wronged Ueda.

Junno arched from his center, gripped himself tighter and whispered, “Yes,” as he finalized the image in his mind, let himself actually think it in full colour.

Ueda walking him back against a wall and smiling a really danger-sweet smile. “You were mine first,” he was telling Junno, lips feathering the words up his chest.

Junno nodded, wondering whether this new Ueda would bite him a little; if his kisses were more vicious. That would be…

He came in his palm, pressed slick and naked come on his fingers as he thought of Ueda’s mouth on every part of him..

 

 

*

 

Junno had never had to think of a world where Ueda could really be angry with him. The things he said in the heat of rage were empty the next second when Junno said something funny enough.

This was different. The place where Ueda had touched him with his fingers and his lips felt bruised with a vengeance. He’d checked himself in mirrors and couldn’t find sign of it, but it throbbed like he could almost eke out the sensation of Ueda pressing venom on him.

He couldn’t get a moment alone with him until after the tour once the staff had stopped buying drinks. The others had turned in and it was strange because they were always the first to leave but Junno was readily convinced that Ueda was waiting him out, not unlike himself.

Ueda’s lips were a deep saucy red and the liquor made him warm while a little brittle. Junno had waited for him to walk out of the restaurant before he followed, falling in step beside him so they could catch the same elevator alone. Ueda didn’t say a word to him when the doors closed behind the both of them.

Wordlessly, Junno looped his fingers over the end of Ueda’s as the hum of the engine began and the floor bell rang. An olive branch if anything.

Ueda’s dark eyes slid a bit listlessly towards him; a deliberate side-eye as he glanced down at their loosely inter-linked fingers. “You’re so preschool,” he mumbled sardonically. “And you’re not even sorry.”

Junno thought saying so would mean he knew what he’d done wrong. Just empty words. “So make me,” Junno replied simply. It wasn’t words he wanted.

 

*

 

What he wanted came to him in no certain terms a few moments later in Ueda’s hotel room. He didn’t mind his wrists jammed to the armrests of the chair, the chafe of cotton--bed sheets ripped to shreds-- on his bound arms as his head lolled back. He was wholly fixated on how Ueda stood shirtless over him, legs apart, leaning a deadly weight on him as his hard fists dug deep grooves into his arms. It could have been something like an embrace if not for how stuttering Ueda’s breath on his temple felt; the musk of his skin so within reach but untouchable.

Junno helplessly watched him in the dark; watched the warm shadow of Ueda’s shuddering over him, feeling all of his frame with just the sleek line of his body, thighs clenched on him. Fingers slid up his arms to his neck, one palm cupping his jaw. In one deliberately brutal gesture, Ueda closed fingers on his chin.

“You’re too easy,” Ueda whispered on his mouth, all liquor-soaked and hot. “Why do you make me so--”

“Nnh,” Junno said low, gripping the edge of his armrests, feeling the heady twist in his blood. He  
arched his hips and floundered at the caustic grind of his erection up against the soft give of Ueda’s thigh.

Ueda let him and Junno felt him tremble, all sharp edges and body screaming sex but he wouldn’t move the way Junno wanted. Instead he raised himself up, letting go of Junno entirely.

“Uepi…” Junno hissed and he could hear the wood of the armrests creak as he tried to reach for him.

Ueda slipped off him with too much ease, leaned back and dropped on the edge of his bed, hands curled into the bedclothes on either side of him with a very rehearsed sort of control. “Remember how I used to kiss you? When we were young?”

Junno couldn’t help it. “I think about it everyday. That’s what you want, right?” he prodded.

Ueda stood. With a decisive flair, his hands went for his belt buckle, unzipping his jeans and unclasping the belt slowly. He was only ever really hard lines to Junno, but somehow everything on him felt like becoming, mouldable, biteable; his lips curved as he opened his jeans. “I want…” he began and trailed off.

“Anything you want,” Junno breathed.

“Of course,” Ueda returned flatly like Junno was some sort of liar even as he approached and thumbed the button of Junno’s trousers open; even as he straddled him again, he seemed to hold Junno in some sort of reproach.

The only moment he hesitated was just before touching Junno; he smoothed a palm over his erection and paused, breath tight in his throat, eyes hooded, but stare filled with a similar disquiet to what Junno felt. Junno nearly bit his tongue when Ueda’s fingers touched along the line of his undershorts, pulling at the elastic.

“I want...,” he whispered.

He seemed to steel himself, resolve and unspoken acceptances rolled off him when he got a hand around Junno’s cock. Junno moaned under Ueda’s mouth, fingers curling over wood and his hips rolling up to get more.

Ueda swallowed, softly like he was wrecked from the inside, fingers clenching on Junno as he slid himself against him, the tip of his own cock dredging a painfully wonderful line against Junno’s. His lips dragged down Junno’s throat as he started to rock with him, leaving a gleaming stripe of heat before he started to drop them. Lava kisses, on his clavicle, biting and sucking kisses like he was mouthing up different parts of Junno. Junno leaned back and let him take it; each kiss like renewal.

God he loved Ueda’s mouth most of all right then, but his hand holding them together squeezed the base--tight--like a vice in some great possession of everything in Junno that could feel something real.

The chair groaned under their weight combined and the rhythm they’d found, Ueda’s hips rubbing over his, fingers digging grooves into him as he tried to thrust. Gasping, Junno turned in against Ueda’s chest when he rose up and tasted heat on his skin, and he knew he was straining against his ties.

“Please--” he began, and Ueda squeezed tighter, throttled Junno until he felt all at once like he might spill out of himself while his insides quaked, deep and seized pleasure sizzling in his veins like hot lemon.

He was so close and he screwed his eyes shut, rocking upward and feeling the jagged edge of their rhythm go off when Ueda slowed down. Agony. Junno couldn’t breathe and he must have whined a little because he felt Ueda’s smile on his skin, spreading like a touch of muscle.

“I want,” Ueda growled.

Junno sobbed as he felt the ties around his arms dig sharply into his wrists. He was writhing, trying to get more and suffering at Ueda pacing them slower and slower until he wasn’t moving at all.

All at once he was gone again, clasp of them together loosened. Junno sucked his lower lip between his teeth as he watched Ueda withdraw, drop back on the bed all flushed, open, messy, perfect.

“No, please,” he begged; he felt dizzy from it.

Ueda looked at him under strands of wet tendril black hair; his mouth all kissed out. Slowly, like it was the most natural thing, he sat back on the bed and closed a hand on himself. Junno felt every second of it, the stifling heat of the chair where he was tied up and the sticky edges of wood clinging to his skin and the sight--so beautiful in that it was the only cruelty he’d ever known-- of Ueda finishing himself, lips parted as he thrust against his own palm. This time he made sounds he wouldn’t give Junno, soft and sweet.

He was Junno’s Ueda then. Eyes narrow and glittering, pouting lips wet from his tongue and the tight, perfect mewls spilling from him as he worked himself over.

“Junno…,” Ueda moaned and the world could end on a dime; it was swimming around Junno, listening to the echoing ache of his name as Ueda’s fist on himself tightened. Junno watched it all, the dark head of Ueda’s cock between Ueda’s fingers slipping out wet and spilling between them, hot come.

Ueda’s eyes had never left him; had dragged up the full sight of him the whole time, like he could drink it in with his gaze. Junno drooped in his spot, out of breath, trembling and unfinished. He was startled at his body’s response to the motion of Ueda’s entire frame as he got to his feet.

“You asked if that was what I wanted...” Two hands rested on Junno’s wrists, pressing an enchanting pain through his limbs. “What if I just want to be the cut in your canvas, Taguchi,” he said before he kissed him.

All Junno could think as his veins protested and his whole body ached with need was a pun, _That’d be sublime_.

 

 

 

 

 

“What happened to us?” he asked days later like Ueda hadn’t tied him to a chair and screwed with him blindly. Even something as intimate as the moment they shared could be nothing in the thick of things. He didn’t even know what he wanted to happen to them.

Ueda’s mouth was full of hot chocolate and his gaze was like shadows and longing. “Entropy, maybe,” he replied once he’d swallowed, edges of steam on his glasses. “Junnosuke. The boy I liked to kiss... ”

“We’re still negative space, you know.”

Ueda’s eyes rolled, black-rimmed and a little wet. “I know, but it’s not the same. ”

Junno didn’t esteem himself a great kisser but he liked to do it anyway. Ueda didn’t protest either. At least, a hand settling on his throat in a possessive curl when he opened his mouth over Ueda’s said enough as it was.

“I don’t want to be the same,” he told Ueda and hoped that counted for an apology.

This whole thing. Counting the minuses and pluses--especially the minuses--had him thinking that the sum of their parts was really nothing. It seemed to be the main problem between them, feeling like nothing but wanting something.

He knew he liked Ueda; he knew some things could be simple.

And creation and destruction could come from an empty space; from the shock white-washed canvas of their relationship. Cut through the lies and start from zero.

Ueda still knew how to cry and all his razor sharp edges made Junno’s skin ache.

And that worked? Sorta.

“You were mine first,” Ueda whispered hotly against his jugular, the soft shape of his lips forming the words.

Junno let him imprison his wrists and grind against him a little telling promise. _Fuck me_ he thought, swearing and hoping all at once.

 

*

Ueda did like to use his mouth. Seemed an appropriate part of Junno’s agony that he lie back in his own mattress as Ueda’s lips faded off his ankles, stripped blind and careful kisses up his calves to his knees.

“Every part,” Ueda’s lips said. “All mine again.”

Junno liked that even as he shivered and twisted fingers in Ueda’s black hair and tugged, waiting as those lips drew up his thigh, pressed a wet imprint on him and made him moan a beckoning.

“Yours,” he whispered, letting his laughter breathe out of him, jittery and euphoric when Ueda’s tongue grazed like a hot rough muscle on the underside of his cock.

He spread himself thin across the bed as Ueda crawled up his body, kissing across his belly and brushing soft touches of his eyelashes fluttering and eager breaths quickening over his chest.

When Ueda sat up and pushed Junno’s knees to his chest, and held him down with muscular ease, Junno dragged his fingernail like a knife along the thin satin of Ueda’s lips, watching hotly as his mouth opened for him. A strangely delicate response even as Junno felt his muscles coil tight in protest --restraint-- of Ueda’s fingers digging into the elastic binding of his tendons, pushing him harder into the mattress. He could feel the grooves of it in his back, but he was hoping for it, praying in sharp words undertone that Ueda would make this real, take him there.

As his thumbnail left a little indent in the plump crease of Ueda’s lower lip, his fingers curled. Ueda rocked flush into him, shifting slow like he was savouring the squeeze and cling of them together. Junno grabbed up his back when Ueda thrust deep inside him, growling out a command for Junno to rock with him, make them shudder harder together.

Junno held on, twisted inside out as Ueda began to speed up, teeth set like he was going to go at Junno’s throat, tear him to pieces. It was stunning and Junno flexed upward, pushing himself into it, waiting each time for Ueda’s soft, secret moan to climb from his chest.

That. That part of Ueda was his. Always had been.  



End file.
